


i think you know who

by snowlandsontop



Category: Stardew Valley (Video Game)
Genre: Birthday, Birthday Presents, Complete, Crushes, F/M, Fluff, Jealousy, Oblivious, Secret Crush, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, oblivious shane
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-21
Updated: 2020-06-26
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:48:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24834859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snowlandsontop/pseuds/snowlandsontop
Summary: The farmer sends Shane to talk to the bachelor she wants to ask out at the Flower Dance. After speaking with Alex, Harvey, Sebastian, Sam, and Elliott, Shane is still oblivious to who it really is.
Relationships: Shane/Female Player (Stardew Valley), Shane/Player (Stardew Valley)
Comments: 37
Kudos: 246





	1. Spring 20

Shane heard the sound of a bar stool scrape the floor aggravatingly close to him and hunched over his beer. He stared daggers into the liquid as he wondered why people in this hick town didn’t know anything about personal space. Was it a cultural thing? Was body language incomprehensible? Why did-

“Happy birthday.”

Shane started at the soft voice. He turned to see the farmer, rustling through a backpack on her lap. He wouldn’t have known it was her who had spoken if she hadn’t interrupted her search to give a toothy grin at his confused face, before continuing to forage through her seemingly bottomless bag.

“How did you know it was my birthday?” Shane asked. He had nearly forgotten the date himself. He didn’t like to make a big deal about it. A whole day dedicated to thinking about himself? Gross.

The farmer waved a vague hand in the air. “I have my ways.” She paused, before whispering, “and, Marnie told me.”

Shane gave a small smile. The farmer was odd. But, it was nice. He didn’t know many odd people. Working at jobs like Joja Mart made him all too familiar with people who zombied their way through lives of normal routines, saying normal things and making normal decisions. The farmer was odd enough to uproot her life and start over in a new town. She was odd enough to hang out with Shane sometimes, too.

The farmer unearthed a brown paper bag from her backpack with a flourish, and placed it in front of Shane. She looked at him with anticipation.

Shane felt uncomfortable under her eyes. Was she expecting him to do something? Hell, he liked her enough he'd do a flip if she asked nicely. He looked at the bag in front of him and it clicked.

“A… gift?” he asked. 

The farmer rolled her eyes theatrically. “Yes, a gift. Open it!”

Why would anyone take time out of their day to get him a gift? His disbelief set deeper when he opened the bag and spice attacked his nose.

“Hot peppers!” he exclaimed. He picked one out of the bag and bit into it, tanginess spreading on his tongue. “It’s Spring, where did you even get these?”

The farmer shrugged, zipping her backpack. She seemed to be ready to leave the saloon soon, and that disappointed Shane.

“I bought them,” said the farmer, slinging her backpack onto one shoulder.

The spice on his tongue turned bitter. He knew the farmer was doing well in her first season, but likely not well enough to be comfortably making an expenditure like that. Shane looked into the bag and saw several bunches of peppers, guilt pooling in his stomach.

“Oh…” Shane said. He bit his cheek and considered his next Joja Mart paycheck. It would be tight, but the farmer was worth it. He brought his hand to the pocket he kept his wallet in and said, “let me repay you.”

The farmer grabbed his wrist with a firm hand, stopping him. “No,” she said, her expression serious. “I know a different way you can repay me.”

Shane’s brain stuttered for a moment as he processed those words. He broke out into a sweat he was only half sure was caused by the peppers. He’d had daydreams about this but never allowed himself to believe it would happen. His heart beat faster. Was she going to kiss him? Or, or-

“I’m going to ask a guy out at the Flower Dance. I’d like you to put a good word in for me.”

Shane felt as though his previously giddy heart had stopped beating, tumbled down his rib cage and fell onto the floor, ready to be stomped on with the farmer’s big, muddy boots. He should have known. Why would this beautiful, strange enigma ever like him?

“O-oh,” Shane said, choking down disappointment. He was still heavily aware of the farmer’s hand on him. “Who is it?” he asked, hoping feigned casualness would mask his curiosity. 

The farmer gave another of her awfully cute smiles. “I think you know who, Shane,” she said. 

She dropped his wrist, turned on her heel, and hurried out of the saloon, the loud shut of the door feeling like a slap to Shane’s face. He rubbed the wrist she had held, even though she hadn’t gripped it tight enough to hurt.

“‘I think you know who’...?” He mumbled under his breath. What was she on about? The farmer had never talked to him about any guy she liked. Maybe she _was _too strange for him.__

____

____

Shane finished his pepper and chugged the rest of his beer. There was no ‘for him’ anymore. She was probably just strange enough for the guy she had an eye for. And she had asked him to find this guy, so he shall. He waited an appropriate amount of time for the farmer to get most of the way home before standing from his bar stool and leaving the saloon. 

He found his first candidate quickly.


	2. Spring 20 (Alex)

Alex was outside the saloon, peering into the dog pen with a lost look on his face. His hands gripped the fence, arms flexed as though he were bench pressing something. 

Shane considered the possibility of him being the farmer’s crush. He was attractive enough, his jawline casting a sharp shadow in the sparing light of Stardew Valley nighttime. Shane ran an insecure hand down his hip at the sight of Alex’s toned calves. His face didn’t have much emotion, though. Shane didn’t know him well, but the dude seemed to have three pages of feelings, happy, sad, and angry, and he flipped through them without much downtime between. 

_Not very deep, _Shane thought, approaching Alex. _Not a good fit for someone as complicated as her. _____

____Shane stood next to Alex and put his hands in his pockets, waiting for the other man to notice him. That didn’t seem to be happening anytime soon, so Shane cleared his throat loudly._ _ _ _

____Alex jumped at the noise, startled out of the trance he was in staring at a water bowl in the dog pen. He ran a hand through his hair when he turned to Shane, as if it ever got frumpled with the gallons of gel he used up in a year._ _ _ _

____“Hey, man,” said Alex._ _ _ _

____“Hey,” said Shane. “What are you up to?”_ _ _ _

____“Just thinking,” Alex replied._ _ _ _

____Hm. ‘Thinking’. That was unprecedented. If Shane was a good friend he would have asked what about, but he was on a mission. He dangled the one commonality the two of them had as bait for a conversation._ _ _ _

____“Did you catch the gridball game on Sunday?” Shane asked._ _ _ _

____Alex’s eyes lit up, sparkling an irritatingly charming shade of green._ _ _ _

____“Yeah,” Alex said, drumming excited fingers on the fence. “Do you remember that fumble in the second quarter? It reminded me of this time in high school when I-”_ _ _ _

____“What do you think of the farmer?” Shane interrupted, impatient from the alcohol._ _ _ _

____Alex looked confused for a moment, then his features settled into a cool smile._ _ _ _

____“Oh, her?” Alex asked. “She’s cute. Definitely cute,” he shook his head and gave a small laugh. “Her hands weren’t made for gridball, though.”_ _ _ _

____Shane’s mouth tightened into a hard line. Of course her hands weren’t made for gridball, they were made for farming, and looking pretty when he noticed she had painted her nails, and leaving a ghost of feeling whenever she playfully shoved him or grabbed his wrists. Shane bit his tongue and let Alex keep talking._ _ _ _

____“She wanted to come to the beach with me once. I asked her if she had a bikini and she said to give her a few days and she’d make one.” Alex shrugged. “No idea what that means, so I dropped the subject. We had breakfast together instead. She makes _mean _pancakes.”___ _ _ _

______Shane wrapped a hand around the bag of peppers in his pocket and stayed silent. Alex kept rambling._ _ _ _ _ _

______“She’s… really cool,” Alex said. He gestured a hand towards the dog pen, looking the most sheepish Shane had ever seen him. “We talked around here for a while once. She likes Dusty.” Alex gazed into the doghouse for a moment, as if recalling the conversation, and furrowed his eyebrows. “Why do you want to know?”_ _ _ _ _ _

______Shane stumbled at being put on the spot. “I, uh, she… well…” his words trailed off and he coughed._ _ _ _ _ _

______Alex raised an eyebrow and put his hand on his hips, any ounce of previous, honeyed vulnerability hardening into shards. Shane was suddenly aware of their height difference and made a placating gesture with his hands, although Alex hadn’t even made a move towards him._ _ _ _ _ _

______“It’s just… I just…” Shane sighed in defeat and dropped his arms to his sides. “She said likes some guy. She wanted me to talk to him for her.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______Alex stared at him with wide eyes, and Shane could have sworn if he looked deep enough into his pupils the gears turning in his skull would have been visible._ _ _ _ _ _

______Then, Alex’s stern face relaxed, as if he had just solved an equation. He snorted a laugh and clapped Shane hard on the back._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Nah, man. I can’t help you with that,” Alex grinned._ _ _ _ _ _

______Shane rubbed his shoulder. “Why not? Doesn’t she like you?”_ _ _ _ _ _

______Alex shook his head. “I think she’s got the hots for someone else.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______Shane swallowed the bitterness in the back of his throat. “Who?”_ _ _ _ _ _

______Alex scrunched his nose, confused, and laughed again. He socked Shane in the arm, hard enough to hurt but light enough to be friendly, a balance Alex seemed to have mastered, and started to walk towards his house._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Good luck, Shane!” Alex called over his shoulder, light from the house briefly illuminating both of them before he closed the front door behind him._ _ _ _ _ _

______Shane stood baffled, in the dark, at the dog pen. He mirrored Alex’s position from the beginning of their conversation and gripped the fence, steadying himself and his mind._ _ _ _ _ _

______Good luck? Good luck with what… his search to find this bachelor that the farmer liked? And how was Alex so sure that the farmer didn’t like him? Thoughts swarmed and intercepted each other like a million birds in a cage. His head hurt as they crashed against his skull. He felt like he should be understanding something but the idea flew just out of reach._ _ _ _ _ _

______He gagged at sharpness crawling up his esophagus and was pretty sure the taste wasn’t from envy this time._ _ _ _ _ _

______“I should get home…” he mumbled, and started the trek towards Marnie’s ranch._ _ _ _ _ _


	3. Spring 21 (Harvey)

“Walking home in the dark while intoxicated isn’t healthy,” said Harvey, lifting Shane’s sprained ankle up to his face. Shane was sitting on the edge of an examination table, feeling refreshingly tall next to Harvey, who was on a stool he had wheeled over.

Harvey’s long legs were brought in close to him, modesting his gangly stature. It was charming, the way he made himself look small, reflecting on how inappropriate his personality was for his body. The only time Shane had seen the man stretch out was during the Luau, when he’d gotten more than one glass of wine in him, and ended up sunbathing, lanky and long like a cat.

Shane frowned as he watched a puff of air from Harvey’s nose blow through his mustache. Facial hair wasn’t really his style, but maybe the farmer was into it? The idea of the rough thing brushing against the farmer’s skin made Shane upset, and a small part of him had to be restrained from wanting to kick Harvey in the face at the thought of it.

“I just wish you came in earlier,” Harvey murmured, turning Shane’s foot.

Shane hissed at the action. Prematurely, it didn’t hurt yet, but he just wanted Harvey to stop touching his foot. Harvey must have caught on, as he showed no remorse when he continued to examine it.

“It was late last night when I fell. I didn’t want to wake you, I had no choice but to wait until the next morning,” Shane said.

Harvey rolled his eyes. Always the professional with him. “What were you even doing out so late?”

Shane bit the inside of his cheek. Talking to Alex about the farmer would be weird to explain. “I had a date,” he lied.

Harvey snorted and wheeled over to his desk. “Fine. Don’t tell me.” He started to scrawl something on a paper in his terrible cursive. “I’m writing you a prescription for an ankle compression sleeve.”

“And what am I supposed to do with it?”

Harvey handed him the barely legible paper, an unamused look on his face. “...wear it. Ice it for 20 minutes, 4 times a day.”

Shane groaned theatrically and slumped his back against the wall. This might be the perfect segue to get Harvey talking about the farmer. “4 times a day! The Flower Dance is in 3 days!”

Harvey gave him a tight smile. “Just be glad you don’t need crutches.” Harvey rose from his stool and sat on his desk, elevating himself over Shane once again. “I’m surprised you’re even thinking about the Flower Dance. You couldn’t be bothered with it last year.”

Shane shrugged. Feigning disinterest, he asked, “are you planning on asking anyone to dance this year?”

Harvey paused before answering, and looked at the ceiling as though he was considering something. His mustache skewed on his face as he thought. 

“No,” he said, finally.

Shane stifled a sigh of relief. But, really, just because Harvey didn’t like the farmer for whatever reason, didn’t mean that the farmer didn’t like Harvey.

“What do you think of the farmer?” Shane asked.

Harvey gave another of his tight doctor smiles and spoke slowly, as if choosing his words carefully. “She’s… different. In a good way. I’ve never met someone who has such an intuitive feeling of what I need.”

Shane took a deep breath and struggled to pin down the growing urge to kick Harvey’s face, even though his foot wasn’t near it anymore.

“She’s a really good cook,” Harvey continued. “She eats way healthier than I do. The amount of exercise she gets on the farm encourages me to get the equivalent. Hell, the only bad thing she’s ever done is fuel my coffee addiction.”

Harvey pushed his glasses up his nose and gave Shane a sly smile. “Why do you ask?”

Shane rubbed his neck and focused on a spot on the wall. “She told me to get a good word in with the guy she likes.”

Harvey blinked at Shane’s words. Then, he let out a laugh, larger than any Shane had heard from him in a long time.

Harvey hopped from off the desk and opened the door to the exam room. “It’s definitely not me,” he told Shane, unabashed by anyone from the waiting room who may have heard him.

Shane stayed glued to the exam table. “Then, who is it?”

Harvey gave a small shake of his head. “Get your head out of the clouds, Shane. It’s obvious.” He jutted his chin towards the open door. “Now, get out. I’ve got patients. Your therapist said you’re doing great, by the way. Just try not to get black out drunk anytime soon.”

Shane was hurried out of the exam room, given a compression sleeve from Maru, and found himself in front of the clinic, baffled.

He limped to the bench in front of the saloon and chewed over his thoughts as he strapped on the compression sleeve. If the answer to this whole thing was obvious, Shane must really be dim. And why had Harvey been so comfortable to announce that the farmer wasn’t into him in front of other people? Why did it seem like everyone knew something that he didn’t?

Again, it felt like an important idea was just out of reach. Like the taste of Lacroix or something, so close, but not there.

Shane sighed and lifted himself off of the bench. Whatever. It was Sunday, and Marnie would want his help in the kitchen baking. He’d arrange his thoughts there.

He started to walk towards the ranch again, thankful for the daytime light and the ankle compressor, and careful to note any rocks in his path.


	4. Spring 22 (Sebastian)

Shane savored the taste of honeyed milk on his tongue. He had woken up minutes before to Jas’s insistent knocking at his door. She claimed that she had a nightmare, and that warm milk was the only thing that could possibly put her back down.

Once they arrived in the kitchen and Jas politely asked for a slice of the pink cake they had made the previous morning to go with her milk, Shane had a good idea of why the kid had woken him up instead of Marnie. He was easy to break, and break he did, cutting her a slice with minimal argument.

Though the clock read 1 AM, Shane didn’t mind being woken up for this. He felt a bit like his mother on her good days, combining milk, honey, two drops of vanilla and a pinch of cinnamon to the stove, and serving it to a child who was probably already falling back asleep in their chair. He made himself a mug of the stuff, and with warm memories rushing back at the taste of it, it was almost as good as alcohol. Almost.

Shane listened to Jas sleepily ramble about school, stopping at random intervals to drink milk and eat cake, with one ear. Most of his attention was focused on looking out of the window near the kitchen table. It was pouring outside, the wet gray air blocking Shane from seeing much of anything clearly. But, if he looked closely, he could see a figure a few yards away from the ranch. Lanky, with long legs, squatting down and… playing in the mud, it almost looked like.

The fog settled for a moment and Shane leaned in closer to the window. There. He could see color better now, not that the figure was anything other than monochromatic. Black hair, black shirt, black pants… 

Oh. Sebastian. Looking for frogs at 1 AM in the rain. Shane sighed. Nothing too strange there. He nearly brought all of his attention back to Jas when the farmer came into frame.

Shane choked on his milk and slammed the mug on the table. He wiped his mouth with a fist and pressed his face into the window, half aware of Jas asking him what he was doing. He strained to absorb as much of the interaction outside as possible.

The farmer looked exhausted, probably almost ready to pass out. She stumbled towards Sebastian, her overalls soaked. She was hugging her backpack to her chest, which looked to be empty, for once. Sebastian seemed to hear her approach and stood, wiping his jeans off with his hands, which was kind of redundant with the pouring rain and his muddy palms. He greeted her, and they had a polite conversation, full of gesturing at the ground and heavy clouds above. Finally, the farmer seemed to ask something, and Sebastian started to survey the ground, before darting down and resurfacing with a frog gripped in both of his hands. 

The farmer laughed in delight and hurried to unzip her backpack. Sebastian released the frog in it and helped her close it again. The farmer kissed Sebastian on the cheek in thanks, then ran to the farm.

Shane bit his tongue to keep from cursing. Sebastian was obviously the guy. He finally saw what everyone else had. He had to go out there. Shane turned away from the window to tell Jas he was going outside for a moment, and saw Jas asleep, face smushed in the table, hand gripped around her mug of milk like it was a beer she had passed out next to.

Like godfather, like goddaughter. He smoothed her hair, slid his jacket onto his tee shirt and shorts, and stepped outside into the heavy rain.

Sebastian had returned to squatting in the mud, and didn’t bother to look up when Shane approached him, despite the loud squelching of Shane’s shoes in the wet earth.

“Sebastian,” Shane said, standing over him. 

Sebastian hummed in response, continuing to wipe the ground in his amphibious search.

“Can I talk to you?” asked Shane, voice breaking. He was annoyed at his nervousness talking to Sebastian. The dude was like, 20, tops.

Sebastian sighed, as if the weight of the world had been placed on his shoulders at the request. He sprang up, in a way that could only be described as graceful, and… 

Oh, Yoba. Did everyone in this town have to be taller than Shane? Sebastian’s long black hair was plastered to his face in the rain, obscuring his dark eyes. His skin was pale, the contrast between it and the rest of him striking. His looks, and the possibility that the farmer may be into emos, were worrying. But the worst was the mud on his hands due to his frog obsession.

He was weird. Really weird. Almost as weird as the farmer. Of course it was a perfect fit.

“Do you like her?” Shane asked, simply. No need for mind games or build up, he didn’t know Sebastian well enough for that, anyways. Shane embraced the rain pelting his skin as he waited for Sebastian’s answer. He was going to take it in stride, he decided. Embrace the inevitable sound of Sebastian saying yes, yes, y-

“Who?” Sebastian asked, his face unimpressed.

Shane raised an eyebrow. He was planning on getting this over with as soon as possible. “The farmer,” he clarified.

Sebastian tilted his head, like a dog being asked a question. “Why do you want to know?”

Shane sighed. He was getting tired of repeating this conversation.

“She told me to talk to the guy she wants to ask out,” Shane explained. He gestured vaguely to Sebastian’s face, the ground below them, and the direction the farmer had run off. “And you two obviously…” his voice trailed off.

Sebastian yawned, looking bored. He stretched his long arms above his head, and Shane felt as though he was comparing himself to a swan, watching Sebastian’s ribs shift under his shirt, rain soaked and tight to his skin, as he breathed.

“Like a sister,” Sebastian grunted as he continued to stretch.

Shane blinked. “What?”

Sebastian threw his arms down to his sides, exasperated. “I like the farmer like a sister. A much better sister than the one I have now.”

Shane hesitated, then choked out a relieved laugh. ‘Like a sister’, and not only that, he was acting all brooding and emo again! Sebastian _was _too weird for the farmer!__

__Shane shoved his hands in his pockets and rolled onto the balls of his heels. “G-great! That’s great!”_ _

__The side of Sebastian’s mouth quirked in a slight smile. “That doesn’t mean she doesn’t like anybody, though.”_ _

__Oh, yeah. A roll of thunder mirrored Shane’s emotions quite well. “Who is it, then?” he asked._ _

__Sebastian brought a finger to his chin, nail painted black, and hummed in thought. Then, he bent to the ground and picked up a frog in both of his hands._ _

__“I wonder if this little lady knows,” Sebastian cooed at the slimy thing._ _

__The frog croaked loudly, and leaped out of Sebastian’s hands, landing with a wet splat on Shane’s shoulder._ _

__“It’s touching me,” Shane complained._ _

__Sebastian let out a small laugh. “Yeah, she is.” He scooped the frog back into his palms._ _

__“This one is smart,” Sebastian continued, fawning over the small creature, before releasing it back into the mud. He started to leave, but stopped to turn his head over his shoulder for a moment._ _

__“Have a nice night, Shane,” he grinned, a spark of distant lighting illuminating his black ensemble gray. His smile was so slasher like Shane half expected his skeleton to flash in the electricity. “Take good care of her," said Sebastian._ _

__Shane furiously rubbed rain water out of his eyes as he listened to Sebastian’s light steps walk away from him. ‘Take good care of her’, who was Sebastian talking about? The frog? Why did it seem like everyone was playing these mind games with him? Shane thought it would be the other way around in this search for the farmer’s crush._ _

__Shane plodded to the ranch and patted himself dry with a towel in the bathroom. He walked to the kitchen and saw Jas still passed out at the table. He picked her up and started towards her room._ _

__Jas stirred in his arms. “You smell like outside,” she grumbled._ _

__“Sorry,” he said, tucking her in bed. He thought for a moment. “Would you ever like a pet frog, Jas?”_ _

__Jas scrunched her nose at the proposition, and buried her head deeper into her blankets. “No. Frogs are yucky.”_ _

__“Yeah, I agree,” Shane replied, flicking off the light and closing her door behind him._ _

__He walked to the kitchen and downed the rest of his milk. Suddenly tired, he decided to rest his head on the kitchen table for a second. Before he knew it, he woke up hours later, still at the table, with a crick in his neck._ _


	5. Spring 23 (Sam)

Dullness penetrated Shane’s skull as he restocked boxes of Joja Multipurpose Detergent on a shelf, one after another. Who was even buying this stuff? If it classified as a shampoo, toothpaste _and _icing, it simply couldn’t be FDA regulated.__

__But that was besides the point. The repetitive motion drilled into his head drained him more than it should. The whole job was depressing. What was worse was, currently, this job was the only concrete thing in his future. The only way out of this rut was college, and Yoba knows he wouldn’t have enough money for that any time soon._ _

__Bleh. Shane hated thinking about this. It was like a dog chasing its tail, mindless rings of issues that were exhausting to chase and never had a real solution._ _

__He thought of the farmer. How she had uprooted her life and started over. He mused over doing something similar. Of course, he’d thought about this a million times before and deduced it as impossible, but what was the harm in thinking? He wondered what she was doing right now. Fishing, hoeing land? Maybe chopping wood with her fine arms, or being outrageously kind and adopting another cat?_ _

__The loud squeak of a shoe on the floor snapped Shane out of his thoughts. It came from across the shelves, in the aisle opposite to Shane’s. He peeked through a small space between the boxes of detergent on either side and…_ _

__Ugh. Sam. Restocking shelves and swaying to the music in his headphones._ _

__Shane’s jaw clenched as he continued to place boxes onto the shelves, trying, with difficulty, to ignore the now blatant sounds of Sam dancing on the tile._ _

__Shane didn’t like Sam. No, the kid didn’t do anything to him. He didn’t do anything except exude youthful positivity and an obviously bright future, and that was enough._ _

__Shane started to stock faster. Maybe Sam was the guy the farmer liked. Sam was cute. Shane thought his 80’s hair was annoying, but the farmer probably found it charming. He was ambitious, probably saving all of his Joja money in a cookie jar or something to fund that stupid band of his. Oh yeah, his band. Yoba knows what Sam could do with those Guitar Hero hands of his-_ _

__Shane accidentally knocked a box of detergent to the floor with a clunk. Apparently he was angrier than he thought. He bent to retrieve it, and when he came back up, Sam was peering through the now empty square of space on the shelf, connecting the two of them through their separate aisles._ _

__“Hi, Shane!” Sam said, poking his head through the space like some sort of horror movie jack-in-the-box._ _

__Shane jumped and dropped the detergent once again. He cringed at Sam’s laughter as he picked it up. The dude was always sunny, and it got in the way of things. Things like being angry at the world and self loathing._ _

__“Hi, Sam,” Shane said, concerned at the idea of the hole in the shelf turning into some sort of telephone between them._ _

__“How are you doing today?” Sam asked, confirming his fears. The question irritated Shane, Sam was always so joyfully polite. It probably came from his military brat background with his father currently being overseas. Hm. That brought up the possibility of daddy issues, which pleased Shane a bit. However, knowing the farmer, she’d probably find problems like that endearing._ _

__“I’m fine,” replied Shane, robotically. He was about to reshelve the detergent, cutting off their telephone and the equivalent of shoving a gag in Sam’s mouth, but he hesitated. If this really was the guy that the farmer liked, Shane had a job to do._ _

__“Hey, can I ask you something?” Shane asked._ _

__Sam looked surprised. Their conversations usually never got this far. He took out both of his headphones. “Yeah, shoot.”_ _

__Shane heaved the box of detergent in front of his stomach, like a shield that could protect his emotions. “What’s your opinion on the farmer?”_ _

__Sam’s lower lip pouted a bit at the question, as if he were expecting something more interesting. “Um, well,” he shrugged. “I don’t know her very well. She talks to Jodi and Caroline a lot, so I kind of just assumed she was their territory. She’s always bringing homemade mayonnaise to the house. Jars and jars of the stuff.” Sam shuddered. “I hate mayonnaise.”_ _

__Shane tightened his grip on the box. If this was the guy that the farmer liked, he certainly didn’t deserve her._ _

__Always the gentleman, Sam attempted to continue the discussion. “How do you feel about the farmer?”_ _

__“I think she’s great,” Shane said, a bit too quickly, a bit too eagerly. He looked at the ground and tapped his fingers on the box as he spoke. “She’s really nice, and selfless. She’s still sleeping in that old shack of a farmhouse so she can upgrade her chickens to better living quarters. She’s smart, it seems like she visits the library everyday, and she’s always helping Gunther with his artifact project. I like how… tireless, she is, too. It must be super painful to work with your hands like that all day, but she always has a smile on her face. And-”_ _

__Shane stopped talking at the sound of Sam snorting a laugh. He looked up and saw Sam staring at him, an odd expression on his face, his eyebrows raised and a smug grin._ _

__“What?” Shane asked. “Why are you looking at me like that?”_ _

__Sam tightened his eyes, goading. “You sound like you…” He shook his head, still smiling. “Nevermind. Why did you wanna talk about her, anyways?”_ _

__Shane shifted his grip on the box. “She told me to talk to the guy she likes. She’s planning on asking him out at the Flower Dance tomorrow. I just can’t figure out who it is.”_ _

__Sam laughed again. “And you’re talking to me?” he asked, loudly. “Yoba, Shane. Good luck finding your mystery man, she sent you on a wild goose chase. I’ll give you a hint, it’s-”_ _

__“Shane! Sam!” Morris squawked from his desk. “Stop chatting and get back to work!”_ _

__Sam’s face flushed. He gave Shane a large shrug and a mouthed ‘sorry’, then slid a box of detergent between them, cutting their telephone line._ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! The last chapter will be posted tomorrow <3


	6. Spring 24 (Elliott and Flower Dance)

Shane exited the clinic and paused for a moment, in front of the door that closed with a chime. He tilted his face towards the sky and breathed. The sun felt good, spreading like melted butter on his skin and warming his bones, but it was also bitter. He almost wished it would burn him. He didn’t deserve to feel something so pleasant. 

He wiggled his toes in his dress shoes. Harvey had just deduced that Shane’s ankle was fully healed, but his feet were uncomfortable in the tight things. Everything except his exposed skin was uncomfortable. He’d never felt right in suits, but he had to wear one to the Flower Dance.

He sighed. Yes, he was going to the Flower Dance. While he had utterly failed at finding the guy that the farmer liked, he was desperately curious about who she was planning on asking out. Even without a good word put in by Shane, anybody would have to be an idiot to reject her. 

That was besides the point. What mattered was that she had asked him to do something, and he failed. The residue of hot peppers on his tongue made him want to gag. He had guiltily eaten the last one from the farmer’s gift that morning, gripping onto whatever hope that he might figure out the identity of this guy before the dance started.

He pulled a folded letter out of his pocket and began to read it, as he had many times that day. He hadn’t seen the farmer since his birthday, and the letter, which had arrived that morning, was their only communication.

It was short, saying that she hoped Shane had found the guy she fancied and had a long conversation with him about her. What baffled Shane was that he thought he had interrogated every possible option. Who was left? Lewis? That seemed kind of scandalous, but maybe… 

“What glorious penmanship!” said a grandeur voice.

Shane recoiled at the noise and shoved the letter back into his pocket, suddenly aware of the large presence next to him. He turned to face who had spoken.

Oh, Yoba. Elliott. Shane would have turned and banged his forehead on the wall of the clinic if it was socially acceptable to do so. How could Shane have possibly forgotten Elliott? He was a bit of a hermit in his cabin on the beach, but he wasn’t easily forgettable. Glossy hair that fell to his shoulders, soft eyes, he’d look kind of girly if it wasn’t for his angular nose and jaw. His balance between femininity and masculinity reminded Shane of those Shakespearean actors that would play both genders. That and the way Elliott acted and talked like he was always being watched by a crowd. Hell, even his career was theatrical. A novelist living on the beach? It was like he came straight out of a play.

Elliott gave him a pearly smile and Shane internally groaned. He was near gorgeous, there was no doubt that the farmer liked him. Elliott looked very much at home in his suit. Standing proud and tall, with it perfectly tailored to his broad shoulders, like a groomed, purebred horse.

Shane fished the letter out of his pocket. “Did you get a good look at it?”

Elliott furrowed his perfect eyebrows. “Not really.”

Shane shoved the paper into Elliott’s hand. He felt his face warming as Elliott began to read it.

“It’s you, isn’t it?” Shane asked. “It’s you she wants me to talk to?”

Elliott took his time reading the letter, holding it out in front of him like it was an epic book of poems. At last, he began to neatly fold the paper closed.

Elliott shook his head. “I wish I belonged to a woman with such beautiful cursive. Alas, I don’t think she was talking about me.”

Shane felt his frustration boil over. He looked to the Mayor’s Manor and said, “I knew it. It’s Lewis, that bastard.”

Elliott let out a hearty laugh and handed the letter back to Shane. “I’m fairly certain it’s not Lewis, either.”

Shane shoved the letter back into his pocket, crumpling the perfect creases Elliott had folded. “Who is it, then? There’s no one left!”

Elliott tossed his hair back, momentarily stunning Shane with a blast of sweet smelling shampoo. Holy crap, Shane thought, the dude could use that as a defense mechanism, it was disorienting. Like rose scented pepper spray.

“I was heading to Pierre’s before the dance. Why don’t you join me and we can think over it,” Elliott proposed, skillfully tousling his hair to an appropriate state of messiness.

Still under the effect of the shampoo, Shane went against his better judgement of disliking Elliott, and he nodded. They walked from the clinic to Pierre’s, and entered the shop.

When Elliott started to survey a display of bouquets, Shane regained his wits and turned to leave. Without looking away from the display, Elliott grabbed his wrist with a surprisingly firm hand, stopping him from escaping.

“Tell me about the farmer,” Elliott said, studying a bunch of tiger lilies.

That stopped Shane. If he was going to lose the farmer to Willy or Gunther or whoever was left, Shane might as well spill his guts about her. It’s not like Elliott seemed prone to gossiping, he’d probably just write it all down in his diary or something.

Shane felt his body relax and Elliott dropped his wrist, apparently satisfied that Shane wasn’t going anywhere.

“I like her. I really like her,” Shane said. 

Elliott hummed in response. He chose a bouquet of red roses from the display. “Classic. Anyways, yes, Shane, go on.”

“She’s really cool. And weird. But in a good way.”

“Mhm. Mhm.” Elliott started to walk towards Pierre’s checkout counter and Shane followed him.

“She’s funny. She gets my jokes,” Shane continued as Elliott paid for the flowers. He didn’t care if Pierre heard him, any future with the farmer was long gone, anyways. “She’s really smart. But also in a weird way. I’ve seen her reel in a fish and say exactly how long it is by just looking at it.”

“Yes, yes. I’ve also seen that,” Elliott murmured. He finished purchasing the flowers and began to leave the shop. Shane trailed after him.

“She’s pretty and kind and-”

“I think I’ve heard enough,” Elliott interrupted.

Shane looked up at him in surprise. They were both outside of the shop now, the clear sun gleaming off of Elliott’s hair.

Elliott was smiling. He thrust the bouquet of roses towards Shane. “Here."

Shane hesitantly took it. “Oh. Did you… are you-”

“No. At least not for you. I’m certain you have someone dear to give these to at the Flower Dance.”

Shane shook his head. He had quite the opposite waiting for him at the Flower Dance. He was going only to watch a small piece of his heart get ripped out of his chest, and so he could feel angry at whoever took it from him. Ugh, probably Lewis. Shane opened his mouth to explain but Elliott brought a finger to Shane’s lips.

Shane paused, startled. That really did seem like something someone would do in a play.

“Quiet, Shane,” Elliott chided. “Walk with me to the dance. You can rethink what you were about to say.”

Shane pushed Elliott’s hand off of his mouth. It seemed impossible to argue with the man, and he’d probably be here all day if he tried, struggling to decode Elliott’s flowery language.

Shane shrugged. “Fine. Whatever. Let’s go.”

They walked in silence to the forest clearing the Flower Dance was set in. Muffled noises of music and people chatting became clearer as they approached. Shane’s hand around the bouquet got progressively sweatier.

They reached the edge of the clearing and Shane froze. He attempted to shove the bouquet back into Elliott’s hands. “Dude, I really don’t know why you gave these to me. I only came here to-”

“Shane, look,” said Elliott. He gestured to the farmer, who was tending to a barrel of flowers with Evelyn, both of their hands deep in the soil. Shane’s heart beat and bloomed into a color more vibrant than any flower in the clearing. The farmer was so kind and lovely. Her back was facing Shane and Elliott, but Shane could tell from the familiar quirk of her head that she had told a joke, and by Evelyn’s pinking face and giggle that it had probably been a dirty one.

She was perfect. And far too good for any man here, especially Shane.

Shane swallowed painfully, choking down blossoming affection for her. “I can’t-”

“Just give her the flowers, man,” Elliott said, the most casual and to the point sentence Shane had ever heard from him. Elliott accented it with a strong shove to Shane’s shoulders, which sent him stumbling towards the farmer.

He walked towards her, recalling the words from the people he had spoken to in the past few days.

“Good luck, man!”

“Get your head out of the clouds.”

“Take good care of her.”

“She sent you on a wild goose chase.”

“I’m certain you have someone dear to give these to.”

They couldn’t have all possibly meant…?

Evelyn saw Shane approach and pointed him out to the farmer with a thin finger. Evelyn smiled warmly at her then hobbled away, as fast as her little body could manage, to give them privacy. The farmer wiped her earthy hands on her white dress, then turned to Shane.

As Elliott-like as it sounded, Shane had to think about how the flowers adorning her hair were plain when compared to the beauty of her face. Shane’s tongue suddenly felt large in his mouth, like he was having an allergic reaction to the peppers she had given him, and he was too flustered to speak.

The farmer, luckily, worked around this. “Are those for me?” she asked, eyeing the bouquet of roses.

Shane nodded, dumbly. The farmer took the roses in her muddy hands, and it became suddenly apparent to Shane how unnatural it was for them to be in the plastic. The farmer would probably plant them later. Oh, Yoba, she was even improving the flowers’ lives.

“Thank you. I’m glad you finally figured it out,” said the farmer.

“It took me a while,” Shane admitted.

The farmer laughed, the sound pleasant in Shane’s ears.

“I had to send Elliott in to help you,” the farmer said. “After Sebastian told me you were staring at us through the window on Monday.”

Shane’s face burned. “He saw that?”

“Yeah,” she said, placing the bouquet on the rim of the barrel. She looked at him, smiling. “You underestimate yourself too much. I thought my flirting was obvious.”

Shane rubbed the back of his neck. He still couldn’t believe this was happening, and expected to wake up at Marnie’s kitchen table any moment. With every second that passed, however, everything felt more real. The murmured noises of conversations around him, the wind shifting the flowers on the farmer’s head. The sun continued to beam onto him, and he felt like the flowers the farmer had planted, blooming and nourished under its warmth. This was real.

“I’m not very good at taking hints,” said Shane.

The farmer grinned. “Hopefully _this _is obvious enough." She took both of his hands in her own. “Would you care to dance, Shane?”__

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I've enjoyed writing this quite a bit and actually ended up writing a chapter and updating everyday, which I've never done before!
> 
> I hope you all liked it!
> 
> Follow me on [tumblr](https://snowlandsonbottom.tumblr.com/)!


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